Becoming
by Orchid Falls
Summary: Suzaku still exists in the twilight, kept tight between the creases in his elbow and the crook of his neck. Suzaku centric, post series fic - spoilers abound!


Disclaimer: I don't own it and all that jazz…

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Becoming

Suzaku Kururugi knows what it feels like to die and keep on living.

A thousand times over and he's still able to move.

They stand by the grave in a line, all dirt and wet grass beneath their feet, gathering together and parting to make a pitiable walkway and resting place. Suzaku can do nothing but stare at the mess that they make and leave behind.

There's no stone to mark his name or his passing, or any of the thousands of memories that run through his mind as he watches. CC remains as aloof as ever, lips a thin, taught line as if the earth may crack and swallow her whole. Standing straight as always, smaller than she was though now, a shadow that clings to her back and shifts to mould against her.

Nunnally sobs beside him, scraping together all the feelings in the world and laying them out for him to taste. She searches for his hand the first time a sob chokes in her throat and catches, fingers stumbling against his own before he notices and swiftly moves degrees out of her reach. The word sorry, whispers in the back of his mind but it's far too heavy to make it up and past the empty space between his lips.

There's nothing he can think of to do or say to provide any kind of comfort. Not as Zero and he's long laid Suzaku Kururugi to rest in a cemetery far more fitting than where his friend now lays, and the name deserves. He listens to the pain in his heartbeat, the silver of Nunnally's tears sliding down her face and the soft breathy tune to CC's silent vigil.

It was worth it, he knows. But standing here, inches apart and all the pain in the world centred in his middle, the new Zero still wonders if it really ever was.

* * *

In the darkest hour of the day, Zero takes off his mask.

His door is closed and locked, and he fills himself with nothing but an empty room and his feelings. Carefully peeling off each layer of clothing until his lungs are no longer pressed down by the tight bindings of his uniform and he's naked and maybe, Suzaku again. Breathing in and out until he can forget what he's supposed to be and just be the shadow of himself.

Suzaku still exists in the twilight, kept tight between the creases in his elbow and the crook of his neck. Set out, and free in the bend of his knees and the skin between his nails. Memories and secrets wrapped around him in layers.

He lies still in the darkness, presses his hand against his ribcage and feels his heart thump quietly. Echoes of the past whispering in the curve of his ear and shifting beneath the space of his eyelids.

In the early hours of the morning before the sun creeps high into the sky, Suzaku wakens stuffed full of his past and the truth tied around him in bundles. He gets dressed quietly, gulping in a last breath of air and letting the mask snap back into place.

The door opens and Zero steps out, and anything left of the boy flies out into the open, disappearing in the uniformed adults wake.

* * *

It's an unspoken account that Zero and Nunnally more often than not come in a pair.

His hands are never steadier than when they're wrapped around the bars of her wheelchair. His fingers curled and the handles heavy and thick in his grip. Her voice is stronger now when she speaks, a clear bird singing across the sky when she makes her points. Zero speaks less over time when surrounded by others and in her company. Only when necessary, and then it's a quick heat of a word pushed out into the ears of everyone around him.

Nunnally grows more confident over time and sheds her family's legacy. Her hair wrapped around the nape of her neck and loose in flyaway curls that fall down to her shoulders. Dressed in flowing gowns that smell like bright rain and warm summer days, fabric as soft as silk beneath his touch. A princess in sight, if no longer in name. She smiles like the world might fall away from her, all wide grin and dimpled cheeks and her open eyes take in everything the world has to offer.

Zero sees the curl in the corner of her bottom lip, the sadness even a princess can't repress when she thinks no one is looking. The moments when her eyes seem to want to close off to the world once again and stop looking.

When Zero is with her, he sees nothing but the reflection of an empty mask in her sight.

* * *

There's an assassination attempt on his life a few months down the line. He hears the screams of fright and shouts of horrified anger, tearing into each other and producing one colossal noise of fear that pulses through his blood. Hesitation isn't in him, his geass kicks in before he knows that he's moving, twisting to avoid the crack of a bullet in one fluid motion. His arms whirl and his feet thud against the ground before he kicks out and hears the satisfying grunt of his enemy and slap of flesh striking flesh.

It's a beat before his heart calms down; danger no longer a threat to the lie they have created. And as his muscles pump and coil and his breath runs into a lazy river he thinks what it would be like to feel the bullet pierce his chest. Push through his skin and tear him apart, collapsing his lungs and cutting through the string of lies until they're all lying on the ground and flowing out and away with his red, red blood.

Instead, the crowd chants his false name and he remembers a day with cloudy blue skies and perfection, and the sound of Lelouch's last breath, hot in his ear.

* * *

In quiet times, Nunnally softly hums old songs that she used to sing at the top of her voice. When they have their rare moments alone together and the quiet between them feels like it could drown them both in unsaid words; she starts one of her lullabies. She wears her hair loose, the same as when she was younger and drifts her eyes closed to feel the space between the beats of her voice and her memory.

Zero feels the past curl up and around him, taking him back to times before war tore everything apart and he felt the sticky warm flow of blood on his fingers. The sounds of childish laughter running through the room in an echo of the past that is far too out of reach for either of them now.

Zero never stays for long when she starts.

* * *

Nunnally says his name once. It's a few months after everything and it doesn't seem a day over the end of it all.

Suzaku.

A hushed breath of a whisper, but the name is out in the open and Nunnally is staring at the floor and waiting for some kind of a reaction.

Most days it's simple to forget, the word Zero follows him around constantly and the only time the other name is mentioned is in scorn and hateful, painful anger he doesn't like to think about.

Zero stands up from his seat and Nunnally rushes to grab at his gloved hands, cupping him to her and looking up at him with too wide eyes. He wants to take off the mask and peel back his gloves and melt into Nunnally's side the way they used to on warm summer days. He wants her to carry on singing at the top of her voice, until the song is stuck in his head and he's joining in to the sound of Lelouch's silly laughter.

Instead his fingers grope along her arm until he's found the skinny bones of her wrist and detached himself. Hot anger coursing through his body as all of his pain lies heavy and broken on the floor. Footsteps away from her before he can push the words through clenched teeth.

Suzaku is dead.

Biting off each word like steel and leaving to the sound of Nunnally's pain, cold and terrified and enough to break him apart all over again.

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Euphemia used to say his name as if she could fill in all the empty pieces inside of him. Her smile would widen when he admitted this, teeth peeping through the blush of her lips when he reddened.

She would fly her hands through the air and dance to him in steps, cupping together his hands as if he might break if she didn't hold onto him. Laying her head against his shoulder and giggling into his chest, hot breath pushing against and into his skin. Laughing as she repeated his name over and over, so that it filled every part of him; stuffing every crevice.

* * *

Sometimes, before he can catch himself, he'll remember that day. The way the mask felt claustrophobic and his lungs fit to burst. The way his fingers, slick with sweat; almost shook too much and dropped the weapon he'd been charged with. The way his knees felt sluggish and heavy and like they wouldn't move for all the world.

Mostly he remembers the pang of desperation that chilled him when he felt the sword slide through muscle and chip through bone. The heavy warmth that flew out of his friend and onto his clothes; staining the world a harsh red and tainting the air with metal and death. The slow, punctured beating of his friends life as he collapsed against him, ready to fall. The way that Lelouch's fingers trembled when he let go.

The way that the smell still hits him just as clear when he remembers.

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Nunnally never says that name again.

Instead, she'll find excuses to be near his side, silent as a ghost but content in his company. Reasons to place her fingertips on his arm, marking the covered skin like a firebrand. Hands covering his guilt and sadness with the weight of her own.

* * *

Kallen never visits. The one time they do meet, she's all fire and rushed words and introducing herself in Japanese. Pride gleams from her features and there's an anger to her eye that Zero doesn't think will ever die down.

She avoids his face and makes no short excuses for the fact that she will not shake his hand, bowing low and quick in a courteous fashion, as much as she'll muster.

Later, when she finds him on his own, her voice tight and controlled; she speaks to him.

She tells him that he is not Lelouch, her tone whispering at the end as she turns her face away from his blank gaze.

The name is like a hit to the gut and Zero straightens at the calm voice that's lost all of its angry, bitter bite he's used to hearing.

A good thing, she claims and still refuses to look at him.

The words aren't a question or a statement, but somewhere in between - and Zero knows the ugly truth for exactly what it is.

Kallen dances just out of his reach as she waits for some kind of rebuttal, disappointment in the bend of her spine when she receives no answer. She turns to walk past him, breath leaving her in one saddened second, words harsh in his ear.

Maybe it isn't.

And he can't help but agree.

* * *

Zero disappears, sometimes for days on end.

He stands still and lost and wonders if Lelouch hears any of the thoughts Suzuku tells him every second of the day. If, being closer to his body will get any of his feelings through faster.

CC returns to the gravesite and waits sometimes as if she is expected. Her skin seems darker and her cheeks a little flushed from the sun with a thin patch of freckles just above her nose. She wears a hat with her hair scraped up and hidden from sight and can't quite seem to smile and mean it.

Zero never takes off his mask and always plays the part, even for the only one who understands the truth. Sometimes they stay for a few minutes, lazy in each other's company, often times through the night. Sat together and breathing as one, feeding each other lies as though it's the end of the world when they really shattered everything far too long ago to fix.

When it is time, CC leaves him with nothing but a backwards glance and a lie.

It was worth it.

Suzaku doesn't remember what it's like to breathe in and not feel pain, thankfully, Zero does, and with that, he can keep on living.

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End.

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Comments and crit are much appreciated.


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